


Time Waits For No One

by Scribblesinink (Scribbler)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-14
Updated: 2008-05-14
Packaged: 2017-10-04 15:02:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribbler/pseuds/Scribblesinink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seemed to Sam that they buried their last chance to keep Dean out of hell when they buried the immortal Doc Benton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Waits For No One

**Author's Note:**

> Some lines of dialog are taken verbatim from the episode _Time Is On My Side_ and are credited to Sera Gamble. Title borrowed from the Rolling Stones. Thanks (again) to [tanaquisga](http://tanaquisga.livejournal.com) for picking nits (again :-)).

They left Erie in a hurry, Dean hastily cramming their stuff in bags and dragging Sam out the door. Sam had plodded dully down the stairs after Dean and into the parking lot. To see their last hope buried along with Doc Benton and his little red book had taken the fight right out of him, and he felt too numb to protest Dean's manhandling of him, or to even wonder why they were in such a rush to get out of town.

Dean had urged Sam into the passenger seat and told him to wait a minute, saying he forgot something up in the room. Sam sat, and waited. The blinking pink glare of the broken E in the motel's neon sign cast flickering bars of light across the wind screen, irritating his already smarting eyes. He suppressed the urge to rub at them. He should probably be grateful that he still _had_ eyes that could hurt, but he couldn't seem to mind either way right then.

Dean returned a moment later, a smug little grin on his face that faded as he gave Sam a concerned look. "You okay?"

Sam nodded, and murmured a "Fine" that made his brother quirk an eyebrow, but he climbed behind the wheel without another word and was soon gunning the engine. A short time later they were hurtling through the dark night along some highway or other, headed who knows where.

Sam didn't much care where. He gazed out at the inky black outside, the darkness occasionally broken by the light of passing cars headed the other way.

Chasing immortality…

He winced at the memory. What the hell had he been thinking?

He'd panicked, that was what. Freaked out so much at the thought of Dean dying in a few weeks' time and leaving him behind that he'd grasped at straws, no longer thinking straight.

Yet when Sam had caught the first whiff of strange goings on in Pennsylvania and began to suspect what might be happening, it had seemed such a brilliant plan.

Deathlessness: the perfect answer.

If Dean couldn't die, he couldn't go to hell, right?

Convincing Dean to go to Erie to investigate had been child's play. And Sam's suspicions had been correct: it _was_ the immortal Doc Benton from Dad's journal slicing people up and stealing their body parts. Discovering the good doctor had used weird, wacky science and not black magic seemed simply the icing on the cake.

After all, how could they have screwed it up? At the least, it'd have bought Dean some time. And Dean was wrong: maybe it wasn't possible now, but who knew what you'd be able get in a Kwik-E Mart in sixty years time? Hell, by then you'd probably be able to homegrow yourself a brand new pancreas in one of those little Petri dishes they used in labs.

Sam uttered a wry, humorless chuckle that caused Dean to shoot a look in his direction.

"What?"

Sam shook his head. "Nothing."

He sighed. Dean had been right, too. Human, not-human: it should've been an easy decision.

The rational part of Sam knew that. But he'd let Dean down in more ways than one.

Only three weeks left…

They were no closer to finding a way to save Dean than they'd been eleven months and seven days ago. And the prospect of Sam's worst nightmare coming true a second time loomed like a thunderstorm on the horizon, drawing near with every passing minute. This time, there would be no Trickster to turn back the clock and undo what had happened. This time, when Dean died, it'd be for real.

And he'd go to hell.

And Sam would have to live the rest of his life alone.

He swallowed down a lump. If there was one thing he'd learned during those six forsaken months without Dean it was that he didn't want that the kind of life. But he had no choice. If he didn't live it, Dean would've bartered away his soul and his own life for nothing.

Never before had the term Catch 22 been so clear to Sam. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

His eyes stung.

Beside him, Dean shifted, taking one hand off the wheel to fumble with his phone. Sam roused himself out of the downward spiral his thoughts had taken.

"Who are you calling?" Sam glanced at his watch. It was close to midnight.

"Bela."

That made Sam sit up straighter. "Bela?" he echoed. "Why the hell would you call Bela?"

"Hush." Dean gestured with the phone. "It's ringing." He raised a finger, signaling that whoever was at the other end had picked up, and spoke into the phone. "I felt your hand in my pocket when you swiped that hotel receipt."

Sam could only hear one side of the conversation, but he listened with rising astonishment.

"You made a deal," Dean continued. "Didn't you, Bela? And it's come due. Is that why you stole the Colt? Trying to wiggle out of your deal, our gun for your soul? But stealing the Colt wasn't quite enough, I'm guessing."

There was a moment of silence as Dean listened to something she said.

"Really? Wow."

Sam slowly began to piece the puzzle together: why Dean had whisked them out of Erie in such a rush, why he'd let Bela live despite declarations she deserved to die.

"If you'd come to us sooner, we probably could've taken the Colt and saved you."

Again, Bela spoke, and Sam sensed more than he saw Dean tense in the darkness of the car.

"She?" Dean asked. He glanced over at Sam. The glow of the headlights dimly lit the expression on his face: eyes hard, jaw set. "Lilith?"

Sam's heart started thumping against his ribs and his mouth went dry.

"Why should I believe you? This can't help you, Bela. Not now. Why're you telling me this?"

Dean went quiet for a long moment. Then, "I'll see you in hell." He hung up.

Sam stared at him. He wanted to ask so many questions. But when he spoke, he only said one word.

"Lilith…?"

Dean nodded. "Yes. Lilith."

One of Sam's hands found the amulet Ruby had given him, hidden under his clothes, and he wrapped his fingers tight around it. Three weeks left. They still had time.

Hope flared.

***


End file.
